


Reyes Falls

by neko_fish



Series: Nibblet of Love [2]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Canon Compliant, Comedy, F/F, Gen, Keema is the Ultimate Wingman, M/M, Sara Wakes Up Early, Umi is Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 06:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12184629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neko_fish/pseuds/neko_fish
Summary: Reyes Vidal may have the mind of a relatively reasonable man, but he has the life of a telenovela sister in-law.





	Reyes Falls

**Author's Note:**

> Mirror piece to Nibblet of Love

It’s a fact that Reyes Vidal is talented in many facets of life.

He once haggled the suit off a volus and sold it back to him at double the price.

He once wrestled an elcor on a dare and (with genuine surprise) won.

He once lied to the Shadow Broker’s face and got away with it.

Only one of these things is true.

Of the things he can’t do, the list is very short.

He can’t play the piano.

He can’t recite Blasto 3 in its entirety.

He can’t trust another individual implicitly without expecting the worst, so he hoards his secrets like Commander Shepard hoarded model ships (or so the biopic said).

Again, only one of these things is true.

\--

Thanks to Evfra’s warning, Reyes is able to find a nice perch to watch the show from as the Tempest comes into view and lands.

Below, the port is abuzz with chatter because the _Pathfinder_ is here.

Reyes has heard his fair share of stories about this mythical Pathfinder who swooped in and singlehandedly rescued Moshae Sjefa. Not only that, but he went around and revived entire planets with the help of his fancy AI. Story has it, he laughed and spat in the Archon’s face during their confrontation and then turned around and charmed the angara into an alliance.

Evfra’s version is far less glamorous. He says they barely survived the encounter and landed on Aya in flames. Even so, the Resistance leader did seem to begrudgingly hold the Pathfinder in esteem.

The Initiative paints the Pathfinder as a selfless hero, going out, braving the wilds for the better of the people. Establishing outposts and finding resources, the only reason they still had a chance in Andromeda was because of their golden boy.

With all these stories, Reyes finds himself actually excited at the prospect of meeting this Scott Ryder to discern the facts from the fiction. While he can't imagine being _friends_ with the Initiative's poster boy, he can still have his fun and use the situation to his advantage.

The Tempest docks and the crew emerges. There's an assortment of characters in that batch to say the least, nothing that Reyes didn't already know about. But the one that holds his interest is the young man who comes striding out with the easy gait.

 _There's_ the confidence of someone who faced down the Archon and Evfra without so much as a flinch.

 _There's_ the recruitment poster that Reyes found so compelling over six centuries ago.

“I wouldn't care if this place was a nesting ground for fiends,” a voice comes in on his earpiece, courtesy of one of the many well placed devices around the port. “I’ll take anything over another day on Voeld.”

A chuckle and a flange that's distinctly turian. “Careful what you wish for, Ryder.”

Ah, not the perfect, selfless hero then.

“Yeah, yeah, knowing my luck, I'll probably eat my words—Peebee, where do you think you’re going?”

“Nowhere! I just want a better spot to people watch! I'll stay out of trouble, _mom_. You go and make nice with Evfra’s pet. I'm sure Tann will give you a nice big kiss when you tame Kadara.”

An affronted noise. “The only thing Tann can give a nice big kiss to is my—”

The voice travels out of range.

Reyes arches a brow. Not the champion the Initiative claims him to be either then.

Once through the initial gates, he watches the Pathfinder rile up an Outcast guard and try to stop a group of them from beating a person, who no doubt failed to pay their protection fee, only to be pulled away by the turian.

Vetra Nyx.

He remembers her.

She was one of the few people on the Nexus he actually liked.

“...picking fights before you even meet your contact,” her voice fizzes back into range.

“But they're attacking an unarmed person!”

“ _You're_ an unarmed person, Scott.”

Idealistic and brash, he adds to his mental list.

“Yeah, but I've got Drack. He could probably overthrow this place on his own. Isn't that right, old man?”

A deep chuckle. “It's true. Don't worry, I'd let you in on the fun, kid.”

“And so generous! How do I go about nominating you for krogan sainthood? Imagine all the relics they'd get to put on display! Each outpost could have its own testicle!”

Reyes laughs in spite of himself. The kid's got a sense of humour at least.

The trio split up in front of Kralla’s Song and the Pathfinder goes in alone—not before grumbling about how long it takes for doors to open in the port.

Getting up, he tucks his earpiece away and makes his way down to the bar. There, he finds the young Pathfinder scanning the scenery and waiting.

He looks even better up close, Reyes notes with pleasure.

Not to his surprise, the young man doesn't even register his presence, probably on the lookout for someone distinctly less human. To be fair, unless they know what they're looking out for, Reyes prides himself on being a social chameleon.

Reyes approaches the young Pathfinder.

“You look like you're waiting for someone.”

Once at the bar, he gestures at Umi who glares at him with more disdain than all the Outcasts have for the Initiative combined. Despite this, the drinks are slammed onto the counter, so he winks back at her and she mutters, “If I roll my eyes any harder, I'll see eternity.”

Practically best friends.

Smiling, he offers a cup to the Pathfinder who studies it for a long moment—probably scanning it for any added substances.

Smart boy.

When he’s assured that he won’t end up lying face down in a sulphuric puddle down in the slums with his organs missing, the young man shrugs. “I have time for a drink.”

He smiles. “Shena. But you can call me Reyes. I hate code names.”

\--

Working with Scott to clear the Roekaar base is a thrilling experience. Not only does he have someone competent fighting by his side, but watching the Pathfinder fight isn’t anything like what he’d expected from the reports he’s read.

Scott fights like he acts, straightforward and unrelenting once he’s set his mind to something. It’s all very novel for someone like him, a nondescript smuggler who prefers planting bombs ahead of time rather than direct confrontations.

The base is emptied in record time and Reyes is very impressed by the contained destructive force that is Scott Ryder. “The streets of Kadara are safe once again. You did good, Ryder,” he says with an easy smile on their way out. “Don't worry, I'll let all the important people know who to thank.”

Adding to Scott’s already growing fame seems like both the right and the entertaining thing to do. The fewer people who know Reyes can hold his own in a fight, the better, and watching Scott react to the unwanted attention—well, that's just an added bonus to an already rewarding mission.

But then Scott looks at him with those beautiful, warm, captivating eyes and Reyes is floored. “We make a good team,” Scott says with a smile, the corner of his eyes crinkling just a little.

He doesn't know if he should look away or stare a little longer because heaven knows he'll never have anyone look at him like that again. Not on Kadara. This man thinks he’s a _good person_ and that he _cares_ about the well-being of the planet and all its exiled inhabitants.

Reyes isn’t one to be moved by the opinions of others, but a part of him wants to prove Scott right if only to see that look again.

Oh no.

Despite the growing dread, he can’t help but wink and flirt, “Careful—I’ll start thinking you like me.”

Watching Scott’s face redden is a treat.

“Would that be so bad?” Scott asks back, a little quieter.

Oh _no_.

\--

True to his job description, Scott goes around Kadara, finding paths and cleaning the place up. By the time he’s done, the vault’s been reset and the scattered bodies of once sulphuric water are no longer suitable sites for scattering bodies.

Sure, both the Outcasts and the Collective run into a couple of setbacks, but the Tempest’s crew remains neutral throughout the conflicts and more importantly, they never fail to ruin Sloane’s day. Everything works out better than he or Evfra could've hoped for with the Pathfinder.

The Pathfinder.

Scott Ryder.

Scott.

Witty, bright-eyed Scott, who gets missions done in record time but stays humble when (rightfully) credited for his accomplishments. Smart enough to scan drinks for drugs but naïve enough to trust a person like Reyes. Bold and flirty under professional contexts but sheepish and shy when caught off guard. Kind and warm even as his body count rises into the hundreds.

He’s a walking contradiction and Reyes can't get enough of him.

Not in a personal way, of course.

In between working with the Resistance, creating new contacts, negotiating deals, expanding the Collective, infiltrating the Outcasts, and casually undermining Sloane’s authority, he finds the time to do research.

Scott, he finds out, prefers whiskey to brandy. He can't snap but is excellent at whistling. He died on Habitat 7 but was resurrected. And whenever he's back on the Nexus, he never fails to take the time to sit and talk to his comatose twin sister.

And once, thanks to his AI, she replied.

“Alright, tell me about what you did to him this time so we can move on.”

Reyes looks up, keeping his face neutral despite being startled from his thoughts. “What do you mean?”

If angarans had eyebrows, Keema’s would be raised at him very pointedly. “Your Pathfinder. The Tempest is docked here and I know how much you enjoy pouncing on the poor boy.”

She's not wrong. Especially the pouncing part. Finding Scott and watching him blush and sputter never fails to be the highlight of his week.

“What did you do this time?” she asks again.

He gives her an offhanded shrug. “Just my usual.”

This time, he watched the Pathfinder hurl himself off a verbal cliff like an ill-equipped paratrooper. It was all fun and entertainment but then Reyes asked about the changes that could be expected on Kadara after the Remnant vault gets reactivated and the way Scott's face _lit up_.

Just thinking about it makes his heart flutter a little.

Not that it means anything.

“Oh, _that's_ an interesting look.”

Reyes arches a brow, wondering if he gave himself away by making a rookie mistake like _smiling to himself_.

Sure, he trusts Keema to a large extent. They even spend what little free time they have together in one of his many throwaway apartments, watching old telenovelas he'd uploaded to his omnitool when he was still on Earth. It also helps to know that both their survival are irrevocably tied to one another. So by necessity and a shared love of old melodramas, they’re ‘friends’.

For a loose and unconventional definition of the word.

Reyes likes Keema. He really does. But sometimes, she looks at him with those _eyes_ like she can see every thought and feeling—and he'd much rather keep those to himself (preferably to his grave), thank you very much.

“I thought I always looked interesting,” he tries with a sly glance.

Keema huffs, unimpressed. “No, the novelty wore off a long time ago.”

\--

Somewhere in between Scott making nice with Morda and Reyes going in and finishing the Oblivion trade for good (with all credit going to the brave and heroic Pathfinder, of course), another Ryder enters the picture.

Reyes bides his time and waits for Scott to return to the Nexus to reunite with his sister first. He's enough of a gentleman to know when to wait his turn.

“So _you're_ Reyes,” Sara says when he introduces himself over the call.

The reaction makes him smile. The thought of Scott telling his sister about him is flattering to say the least. “I take it you've discussed me?” he asks, definitely not preening.

Sara Ryder is every bit as sharp witted and bold as her brother. She’s fun to talk to with her straightforwardness and unwavering self-confidence. He can see the appeal but he prefers a more complicated and ambiguous relationship with more flustered stammering like a certain twin brother.

He likes complications because the greyer the situation, the more opportunities he has to come out on top.

Besides, he understands that a certain turian may have laid claims already.

Or was it the other way around?

“Alright, let's cut the shit.”

Oh, he likes that. He'll have to remember that for future usage.

“As much fun as it is talking to you, you're calling to ask about my brother, right?” she asks casually but with an edge of sisterly protectiveness.

“You make it sound like a common occurrence,” he notes.

He can practically hear her shrug as she says, “Common enough. I mean, there was a 600-year period of silence, but nowadays, I’m waking up to strangers in the med-bay asking about Scotty.”

Competition.

He likes that.

Reyes blinks and reins himself back because that's too much.

Too eager.

Too keen.

It's not like he _likes_ the Pathfinder.

Filing that piece of inner turmoil away, he resolves to mull over it later.

“Your brother _is_ a pretty up and coming person of interest in Andromeda,” he says lightly.

A laugh. “Save a couple of planets and make contact with a new species and suddenly you're a big deal.”

She sounds so proud of him Reyes can't help but smile along. “To think, he was kind enough to help me run errands.”

“When he's not too busy ‘jetting’, you mean?” Sara snickers.

He really likes her. They'll make excellent friends. “Well, sometimes he prefers to ‘vault’.”

“Scotty can't help it,” she manages to say after her laughter subsides. “He may have the body of a burly engineer, but he has the heart of a small, timid woodland creature.”

Reyes isn’t entirely sure what that means, but if that isn't the most accurate description of the young man he's been teasing, he doesn't know what is.

He lets out a huff. “Truly the observation of an older sister.”

“Only by like two minutes, not that I’ll ever let him forget it.” There are voices in the background and rustling. “Sorry, looks like I have to go and lie around some more.”

“I’d never keep you from such an important task,” he says with mock-graveness.

Sara snickers. “You’re alright, Reyes Vidal.”

Is that approval he hears in her voice?

The thought makes him uncomfortable.

“And I hope you’ll be alright soon,” he answers sincerely.

Ending the call, Reyes leans back in his seat to sort through all the information he gathered from Sara.

She had opened up to him and they talked about Scott like two Omega dancers backstage after a gig. And she said he was _alright_ when he didn't give up a single piece of information about himself.

These Ryders are too trusting for their own good.

It's a little worrying.

Taking a long draw of his beer, his thoughts return to the original Ryder— _his_ Ryder.

So he talked to his sister about Reyes, huh?

For all Reyes knows, it might not mean anything. Scott might just tell her about every person he meets along the way and Sara might just assess everyone she talks to. It doesn't sound very probable, but who’s he to say? The Ryders aren't like anyone he's ever met.

Besides, it's not like he _likes_ Scott.

The more he tells himself this, the less convincing it sounds.

Sighing, he lets his shoulders sag as he tilts his head back for another drink. “A small, timid woodland creature, hmm?”

\--

Reyes Vidal was born on Earth. He was raised by his abuela who spent every afternoon in her dingy apartment watching her telenovelas with him and his three siblings and eight cousins on her lap and across the couch.

From there, he became a bit of a jet jockey, betting on and participating in races around unregulated Omega airspace, only occasionally with cargo. He fell in with the wrong crowd then charmed his way into the right crowd, and at some point, he signed on a dotted line and slept for six centuries.

That's the story he likes to tell people sometimes anyway.

Assuming any part of that story is even remotely true, the running theme of it is that he has had zero contact with woodland creatures of any size on Earth or anywhere else. The ‘small and timid’ part only serves to confuse him further.

Reyes is at Draullir checking on the base and all its research when he notices the caged animals.

Adhi are kind of like small woodland creatures, right?

“How are the adhi coming along?” he asks Crux.

She spares him a glance from her datapad, like she just noticed him for the first time, and sighs. That seems to be the usual reaction from people when they’re not asking for his services. “Vidal, the Charlatan sent you? They're coming along fine. Mostly still wild and aggressive though. Domestication doesn’t happen overnight.”

“Explain the process to me,” he says. Then he shrugs and smiles when she turns around to eye him. “What? I like to learn.”

“Lure them in with food, tame them, train them, breed them,” Crux lists the items off with disinterest.

He frowns thoughtfully. “How would you catch a shy one? There's one that caught my eye. I tried approaching it but it ran away.”

“Food and subtlety. The trap works for every kind of adhi,” she explains, running a hand through her hair. “Look, if you're here because you're bored, I don't have time for you. We still have to figure out what to do with that stupid button the Pathfinder wouldn't stop pressing.”

Raising his hands in surrender, he backs off with a chuckle. “I'll leave you to it then.”

She doesn't spare him a second glance as he leaves the room to finish his rounds. If he happens to push the button a few times to the aggravation of the salarian, then that's his prerogative as their unknown leader. Ending off in front of the prison cell where Dorado is held, he gets ready to go in and ask her a couple of questions.

But not before messaging Sara.

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Re: So your brother..._

_What kind of food does he like?_

\--

Feeding Scott and eating with him is not a pastime he ever anticipated. Nevertheless, it's one he’s growing fond of.

“Reyes, this is amazing! Where did you even find this?” Scott asks, nothing but pure joy and bliss.

One of the exiles decided to grab whatever crate they could while fleeing the Nexus, and the one they took just happened to have freeze-dried wontons in it. From there, Reyes gently persuaded them to hand it over.

He smiles. “I know a guy.”

“ _You_ made a friend?” Scott asks, brow arched skeptically.

“I'm hurt, Scott. You know I'm perfectly capable of playing nice,” he says, a hand over his heart. “I just choose not to most of the time.”

What he actually did was convince the person that there were peanuts in the wontons and got them for a reduced price. Because science may have given them the ability to travel to a new galaxy, but not the ability to cure nut allergies.

Scott is all smiles and borderline moans as he slurps up the dumplings. He shouldn't be surprised that Scott is proficient at using chopsticks. The Pathfinder is a man of many talents after all. But he's too distracted by the _moaning_ to process that particular train of thought.

Suddenly, there's a wonton in his face.

“Here, have one. You haven't tried these chicken ones yet, right? Say ‘ah’.”

Reyes prides himself on his brain. Even in the toughest situation, he can remain calm and level headed. After all, he didn’t become the Charlatan for _just_ his dashing good looks. But when Scott offers to feed him, his traitorous mind goes blank and he opens his mouth automatically.

Withdrawing a little, Scott teases, “I didn't hear you say ‘ah’, Reyes.”

His suit feels a little too tight and far too warm. He's pretty sure he's astral projecting because in his mind, he can see everything from a bird’s eye view and even then, he can't quite believe he’s being fed by the _Pathfinder_.

He chuckles. “‘ _Ah_ ’.”

“That's better.”

Regaining his wits, he eats the dumpling but not without very obviously sucking and licking at the chopsticks. When he glances up and smirks, Scott sputters something incoherent and sits noticeably more stiffly.

“I'd feed you back but my chopstick skills are subpar, I'm afraid,” he offers, demonstrating by fruitlessly trying to pick up wonton only to have to slip from his grasp and back into the bowl. “Frankly, I find it amazing that you can use them with gloves on.”

“It’s because I used to eat on the job. Back in the Milky Way, I was stationed as a mass relay guard and didn’t always have time for a sit-down meal,” Scott explains, regaining his composure. “You should've gotten a spoon for yourself. Don't tell me I'll have feed you everything?”

Reyes grins. “Well, I certainly wouldn't complain.”

\--

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Keema says.

It's their telenovela night (after going over their plan to kill Sloane and overthrow the Outcasts again—as one does) but apparently she has something else in mind.

Originally, they started watching the dramas together as a way to drown out their scheming should anyone try to eavesdrop, but then he realized that Keema actually liked the shows and they spent the rest of their time binge watching them.

“I always enjoy myself,” he replies, glad that he just grabbed a new bottle of beer. “There’s never a dull moment on Kadara. It’s like living the life of that sister in-law there.”

On the screen, the aforementioned woman’s jilted lover brandishes a gun and asks her to reconsider their break-up all while sobbing and wailing hysterically. Suddenly, there's a shot and the camera zooms in on the woman’s current lover. She lets out a loud gasp as the screen fades to black and returns to the protagonist’s story.

Keema nods in agreement. “I suppose that's true. I find it very fascinating that you humans have such variety in your food.” she says.

Reyes shrugs. “We'd get bored subsisting on nothing but food paste.”

Giving him a look, she notes, “Yes, avoiding boredom does seem be a driving force for you.”

He supposes he shouldn't complain about being bored to someone whose very species hasn't had the luxury of peace in such a long time. It does make him seem very spoiled and ungrateful.

“Do the angara have different dishes? Planetary specialties?” he asks, changing the topic.

Keema shrugs, a gesture she picked up from him. “We do. But we used to have more.”

He offers her a smile. “You'll have to show me someday. I don't know if I'd eat it, but I'd like to see.”

And use it to impress a certain someone, his mind adds.

Those large expressive eyes study him and he refuses to show any outward sign of discomfort. “Your Pathfinder is good for you,” she says, noticing it anyway.

Reyes isn't convinced that angarans can't read minds.

He does like the sound of _his_ Pathfinder though.

“I think you should tell him.”

He snaps his head up. “Tell him what? That he's good for me? Some might argue that he’s good for the galaxy,” he tries.

If Keema caught the hint, she doesn't acknowledge it. “So you're not going to tell him.”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Because you don't trust him with the truth or because you want to protect him from it?” she probes. It's something he both appreciates and can do without.

She could use this against him.

Against _Scott_.

Reading his mind again, she reassures him, “I have enough dirt on you to bring you down without dragging your Pathfinder into it.”

It's true, but this would hurt more.

“You know my brother.”

Also true. He's met the last of her once extensive family, the others having perished since the kett first arrived, followed by Sloane and the exiles.

“Well? Are you just going to continue internalizing your arguments?”

Reyes runs a hand through his hair and gives in with no small amount of reluctance. “What would I say? ‘Hi, I’m the Charlatan, want to take a tour around my swanky hideout? I know you thought I was a good person, but I actually lie, cheat, and kill for a living. How would you like to overthrow Sloane with me as a first date?’”

To her credit, Keema exudes nothing but patience in the face of his rambling. “You’re afraid of what he'll think.”

“Well, it certainly won't be anything good. I've thought about this, Keema.” Understatement. He’s thought up entire books and movies with unflattering sequels about this. “No normal person would take the news well, not with everything that happens here on a daily basis. Why put an outsider through that?”

“I suppose that’s true for you especially. You may have the mind of a relatively reasonable man, but you have the life of a telenovela sister in-law.”

Reyes takes a very long drink. “That’s not entirely inaccurate. ‘The Charlatan’ _would_ make a pretty good title for a series.”

“My dear, if your life had a title, it would be ‘Reyes Falls’,” she says, not unkindly.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “How ominous.”

“You'll get it eventually.”

\--

“Reyes is a better man than you think!” Scott shouts, hackles raised protectively on his behalf.

It takes his breath away.

Suddenly, he gets it.

Reyes Falls.

He'll have to shake Keema’s hand and congratulate her on her masterful usage of their translators.

“Oh, honey, you’ve no idea how wrong you are. But you will.”

“Leave him out of this!” he snaps.

It's not like he disagrees with the statement but that's _his_ truth bomb to drop. And the fact that Scott said he was a better man only makes him want to hide it away better.

A chuckle. “You must really like this one, Reyes.”

Zia is full of truths today and Reyes is not for any of it.

“Cut the shit,” he snaps, but not without sparing a thought of thanks to Sara. “What’s this all about?”

“You've been taking all the good jobs in Karada. It’s gotten more than _my_ attention.”

He rolls his eyes so hard it could count as a bonding experience with Umi. “So what? The local smuggling union got together and decided to take me down?”

“Something like that.”

“...shit.”

The fight doesn't last very long with Scott on the playing field and by the end of it, Reyes has significantly fewer competitors left. In hindsight, the overreaction was kind of flattering, actually.

Pausing hesitantly, Scott warns, “They might try again.”

“You’re _worried_ about me?” he asks with a chuckle.

Frowning, the other man is less amused. “Reyes.”

A shiver goes down his back at that and he wonders how he can go about recreating the experience. “Relax. I know they’re coming now. They won't get the jump on me.” He sighs. “All that effort and no credits to show for it.”

More at ease with the reassurance, Scott chides lightly, “Not everything has to be about credits.”

“That’s true. What you said back there...about me being a better man? Thank you,” he says, meaning it.

Scott shrugs as though confused about the gratitude. As though he believed what he said. As though it was obvious. “You're welcome.”

With the thought of being a better man still on his mind, he tells Scott to go ahead while he deals with the bodies properly.

Reyes Falls.

Ha.

More like Reyes Falls _Hard_.

\--

In a series detailing the adventures of the Pathfinder, Reyes would probably only have 10 to 20 minutes of screen time. Thanks to Keema, however, he might just get it bumped up another ten.

“I have invites to give out for Sloane’s party next week,” Keema says through the vidcon with a pointed look.

“Why are you telling me about this?” Reyes asks, feigning ignorance.

Keema merely smiles at him. “Because unfortunate as it may be, you are my closest friend here.”

Reyes brings a hand up to his heart. “Ouch.”

“I have invites to give out for Sloane’s party. You should take two,” she says again, more instruction than suggestion.

Sometimes he has to remind himself that he's supposed to be the one in charge.

He couldn't have chosen a better person to be his front.

“Now, why would I take two? You know you're usually my plus-one to these events,” he teases.

Keema is unimpressed. “And _you_ know it's normally the other way around.”

Reyes shrugs. “I can't argue with that.”

“Take two, Reyes,” she repeats.

“Are you so desperate to meet him?”

There's a sparkle in her eyes. “Can you blame me for wanting to meet the person who's turned you into this horrible mess?”

He wrinkles his nose. “Surely there are nicer ways to word it.”

“There are,” she agrees but adds nothing more.

As long as she doesn't bring up telling Scott the truth again, Reyes will take it as a win. He wonders if the Pathfinder ever has to put up with things like this. But then given his crew and twin sister, there's a high chance he has it ten times worse.

“I'll put you on the guest list so hurry up and give your Pathfinder a call,” she says with a dismissive wave and cuts the call.

Left alone in his private room at the Tartarus, he massages his temples and sighs. At the forefront of his mind, he has half a dozen excuses lined up and ready to go but he reels them back. He knows this is just a chance for Keema to tease him further but who is he to pass up on a chance to go on a date with Scott Ryder, Human Pathfinder and Hero of Andromeda?

Exhaling, he sends the Tempest a vidcon request before he can lose his nerve.

Before the end of the day, he gets pinged.

“Ryder! I was just thinking about you,” he greets.

A soft chuckle. “I’d love to hear more, but this isn’t a private channel.”

Apparently the Pathfinder is less prone to stammering and scurrying away on vidcon. Reyes files this titbit away for later contemplation.

“I could tell you over drinks?” he suggests with a leer. “Sloane’s holding a get-together for the locals. I managed to snag an invite. Care to be my plus-one?”

\--

“Reyes Vidal. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.”

Lies.

He told her he was on his way about ten minutes ago.

“Remember what I said about ‘fashionably late’?”

More lies.

She probably has no idea what that means.

Keema shushes him, cutting their banter short. “Introduce me to your companion.”

Exhaling, Reyes puts on an amused smile. She must’ve really been looking forward to this. “Pathfinder. Meet Keema Dohrgun, the angaran representative to Sloane. And a friend.”

The introduction goes about as well as he expects with friendly jabs aimed at him. It’s nothing he can’t handle, but the second Keema says, “You’re all he talks about lately,” Reyes decides that it’s a good time to leave.

This is mostly because he doesn't want to see how this will pan out (as he is already pre-emptively embarrassed) and only partially because he has bugs to plant and things to steal.

There’s a smidge of guilt, but Scott _did_ say he didn't want him to be a gentleman.

Reyes doesn't point this out when Scott finds him in the storage room later. The man smells of one of Umi’s concoctions. Reyes remembers making that mistake. Or, he remembers drinking it and the next thing he knows, he's the shadow leader of a gang.

That's what he likes to tell Keema anyway.

Scott looks like he's ready for a confrontation when one of the guards approaches (because the surveillance cameras around the base just happen to be down for reasons unrelated to his presence).

He’s about to urge the Pathfinder to hide when Scott grabs him and pulls him into a kiss.

Caught off guard, all he can do is stand stunned for a moment before eagerly returning the favour.

He'll have to send Umi a thank you gift later.

Once the guard passes, he reluctantly steps back. “I think we're in the clear.”

“Maybe another kiss? Just to be sure,” Scott says with unexpected drunken boldness.

A gift to Umi and all his tabs paid off, he silently revises.

Chuckling, he shakes his head and goes back to the crates. “Now you're just teasing me.”

He pulls out the bottle of Mount Milgrom he was looking for with an “Aha!” and shows his date his find.

“Don’t tell me this is where you’ve been getting all the food you’ve been feeding me?” Scott asks, eyes playful.

Reyes scoffs. “I would never. Sloane may have decent alcohol, but she might as well feed her people dirt.”

A laugh. “That'd never do for my poor, small woodland creature stomach.”

Eyebrows raising, he grins. “Talked to your sister, did you? Damn, she foiled my devilish plans.”

“Oh yeah? What was your end game? Hand feeding me grains?” Scott asks, making it sound oddly like a challenge he'd happily tackle.

“Grains? No. For you, my little woodland creature? Nothing but the best,” he says solemnly. “I was going to handpick the berries myself.”

Scott beams and it makes him want to kiss him again. “I didn't know berries grew on Kadara.”

Neither did he but damn if he isn't going to go find some now.

The guard from earlier begins doubling back loudly, probably in hopes of alerting them of her approach. Laughing, he grabs Scott’s hand and they make their way to the perch he'd originally used to watch the Tempest land.

The whiskey is every bit as good as he expects and he wishes it wasn't a one-of-a-kind in this galaxy. But they're not in the Milky Way and sitting there, looking out into the horizon with the Pathfinder by his side, he finds that he doesn't mind all that much. “Gorgeous, isn't it? I sometimes forget. Is Andromeda everything you hoped it would be?”

Scott takes a long drink of the whiskey and says thoughtfully, “Every day is an adventure. Even my nights off are interesting. What about you? Why are you here, Reyes?”

He pauses. Why is he here? To find his fortune? To leave behind a shady past? To start a new life? To go on adventures? To forget an old love? To find a new love?

These are things he tells people sometimes.

None of them are true.

But Scott thinks he's a better man and a better man would probably tell the truth.

He has to take a drink before he can answer.

“To be someone.”

It sounds stupid to him even as the words leave his mouth. He half expects Scott to tease him for it but instead, the man turns around and says softly, “...you're someone to me.”

His throat tightens and he doesn't know where to put all the feelings flooding him. Reaching out, he cups Scott’s face; the smile on his lips one he failed to contain. “I'm starting to think that kiss was more than just a distraction.”

They kiss again and Reyes thinks he wouldn’t mind trying this honesty thing more often.

\--

Scott’s visit isn’t the timeliest one but his presence is never unwelcomed, especially when Reyes can look at him and remember their rooftop rendezvous.

“We kissed,” Scott brings up at one point.

“ _Twice_ ,” he says, very pleased.

“Shouldn’t we talk about it?” He sounds concerned.

In the back of his mind, he can hear Keema chiding him to be honest and Scott is _right there_ , but now’s not the time for that. Not when they’re so close to carrying out their final plan.

Leaning back, he opts for a chuckle. “I’d rather keep you guessing.”

Scott looks confused and a little disappointed at the words and Reyes wishes he had the courage to tell him more, but he sweeps the guilt away to be dealt with later and changes the subject instead.

\--

He and Keema work tirelessly to set their plan in motion, picking the perfect time and perfect place to confront Sloane. They have a sniper in place and all manners of scenarios and fallback plans worked out.

Scott showing up with Sloane probably falls under the ‘neutral third party’ scenario, but it feels a lot more like a telenovela-inspired ‘lover shows up brandishing a gun’ scenario and Reyes wishes they hadn't dismissed it so easily as a joke.

In a way, he supposes having the Pathfinder here works to his advantage. Sloane won't shoot him dead on the spot for one. For another, by bringing a third party, she limits herself to having to play fair lest she risk getting publicly denounced by the very witness she brought. This is all assuming Scott is on his side.

Swallowing hard, he resolves himself to carry through with the plan. He'll simply have to trust Scott to do what's best for Kadara, and if he doesn’t, well, that’d be a blow in more ways than one. Reyes isn't sure if he’d be able to recover from that, but as Pathfinder, Scott hasn't let him down yet.

Besides, Scott thinks he's a better man.

That will probably change after this.

From here on out, there'll be no more banter, no more warm looks, no more bashful smiles. He braces himself for the loss of their meals together and already, it gnaws away at him but he supposes he should've expected this. Scott never fails to be where he's needed and where is there more urgency than a face-off between the two leaders of Kadara?

He takes a deep breath and straightens his expression.

“You look like you're waiting for someone.”

Scott reacts first.

“Reyes?”

There's confusion in his eyes, but Reyes can see that he's already putting all the pieces together.

Sloane on the other hand, looks irritated. “I'm here for the Charlatan, not some third-rate smuggler.”

“They're one and the same,” Scott whispers.

Smart boy.

He can't help but smile a little at that. “Surprise.”

In the blink of an eye, the confusion gives way to anger and hurt. “This whole time you’ve been lying to me.”

Reyes shakes his head. “Not about everything. You know who I really am,” he says, wishing he could somehow convey the sincerity of his words.

Scott doesn't look convinced.

Whatever is happening between them, Sloane evidently doesn’t care. “You said you wanted to ‘settle things’. How?”

“A duel. You and me. Right now. Winner takes Kadara Port,” he proposes, the Charlatan once more, hopping down from his ledge.

“You want to avoid war by shooting each other!?” Scott asks, his voice betraying his concern.

He shrugs. “Two people shooting each other is better than a lot of people shooting each other.”

The logic is irrefutable.

Sloane smiles with the confidence of a professional gunman. “I'll take those terms.”

So they duel.

And Reyes cheats.

“Bang.”

Before Sloane even hits the ground, his mind has already moved onto the next item on his agenda. He orders his men to move the body because while he’s not a good man, he’s not going to mount Sloane’s head on a pike. So given very low standards, he supposes he can still be considered not the _worst_ man for whatever that's worth.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he walks off to give Keema an update. Behind him, he can hear footsteps following him and he braces himself for what’s coming.

“I guess you got everything you wanted,” Scott says, his voice rough with hurt.

Reyes turns around. “What I want is peace. Sloane would’ve brought war to Heleus. We don’t have the population to survive that.”

It's the pitch he gave the Collective. It's all business and logic but it's also the truth.

Evidently, it’s not what Scott wants to hear. With no small amount of reluctance, Reyes looks at the man. More than anger, there’s _hurt_ and _disappointment_ and Reyes is the one who caused that. “...why didn’t you trust me?”

“I...liked the way you looked at me,” Reyes admits. Another truth but one that does little to sooth the damage already done. “I was afraid that would change.”

They're at a crossroad now and the two paths before them are clearly laid out. Scott will either accept or leave him.

But Scott Ryder has never been one for following convention. Gaze lowered to the ground, he takes a step back and says quietly, “I need some time to think.”

Then he leaves.

Reyes likes complications because the greyer the situation, the more opportunities he has to come out on top.

Only, in this case, he's not sure what coming out on top means.

\--

Scott stops coming to Kadara and Reyes doesn't message him. ‘Time to think’ generally means space, doesn't it? So he doesn't write and listens to the Pathfinder’s exploits across the planets with a mixture of pride and bittersweetness.

Well, it's not like he deserves someone like Scott Ryder. But he lives on Kadara where ‘deserve’ means very little in the face of ‘want’ and ‘need’. So long as one has the resources, one can easily become deserving of their desires.

“You look absolutely miserable, Vidal,” Crux says when he visits the Draullir base.

Miserable is one way to describe drinking and rewatching Blasto 3 for the umpteenth time while his glitchy prototype Shepard VI reads his emails to him. During the day, he's still doing his job properly—only miserably.

Looking over her datapad, Crux frowns. “Wow, no answer? That bad, huh?”

She probably won't talk to him this way anymore when she finds out he's her boss later so he should get adhi advice while he still can.

“I kicked the adhi by accident and now it's avoiding me,” he mutters.

Crux rolls her eyes. “You should just leave it alone.”

“But I _liked_ that adhi.”

Giving him a long, hard look, she sighs, “Food goes a long way for animals. Go feed it. Don't trap it. Just let it approach you.”

He supposes it couldn't hurt to try.

Maybe Keema knows where to find berries.

\--

Before he can follow through with his plan, Scott dies.

From what his sources tell him, he came back to life right after but that doesn't make Reyes feel any better.

Because Scott _died_.

He's spent the last few weeks driving himself insane during his free time despite the numerous reports coming in from the Nexus telling him that the Pathfinder has completely recovered and is causing mayhem for his physician with his sister.

That doesn’t change the fact that Scott _died._

“Are you going to pace around like this the whole night?” Keema asks, pausing the show.

“He _died_.”

“Yes, and he came back to life.” She could be talking about Scott or the episode, the chances are pretty even, but she really should be paying more attention to the Pathfinder’s situation because he _died_. “Reyes, you're talking up a storm in your head again. Have you tried contacting him?”

“No,” he says.

Because Scott _died._

Rolling her eyes, another gesture Keema picked up from him, she silently asks the stars for guidance. “I'm going to hail the Tempest.”

Reyes frowns.

“Don't give me that look. As entertaining as this is, you're obviously still concerned,” she tells him. “I need you focused and fully functional before you make a mistake you can't fix. You're also ruining my telenovela with your pacing.”

He mutters, “Sorry, it's just that he _died_.”

“Goodness, I never thought the day would come where I’d have to baby the Charlatan like this.” Sending a message with her new omnitool, she tells him, “There. Done. Now come here and sit down.”

Doing as he's told, he sits on the couch and tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I should've told him earlier.”

A ping. “Well, it looks like the Tempest will be docking in a few days.” Keema reaches over and pats his lap reassuringly. “You'll get to talk to your Pathfinder soon enough. Instead of focusing on how he died, you should remind yourself that he’s still _alive_.”

Reyes sits up and mutters, “You're right.”

Scott’s alive.

He needs to go berry picking.

\--

The Tempest lands and Reyes watches the crew emerge. First, Sara comes running out with Vetra in tow, then the asari, the biotic, the angaran, the krogan, and the other human.

But no Scott.

His mind races. Maybe all the reports he received from the Nexus were wrong. Maybe complications came up because Scott had _died_.

Climbing down his perch, he makes his way over to the Tempest where the hull door is still open and unguarded. He makes his way up and sees a familiar figure standing by an email terminal.

Heart racing, he approaches as the figure turns around. “Reyes!?”

It's so good to hear that voice again that it makes his knees go weak but he doesn't answer, eyes searching and scanning for any signs that the man might be anything less than perfectly healthy. When he doesn't find anything, he finally allows himself to reach out and cup Scott’s face. “You're alright,” he whispers, a quiet reassurance to himself.

The words sink in and Reyes exhales in relief. “You're alright.”

Scott blinks, his disbelief evident. “You were worried.”

Worried is the mildest word for what he went through.

“I heard you _died_ and then you didn't get off the ship with the rest of your crew.” He swallows hard. “I didn't know what else to think.”

He can see the other man processing the situation, trying to make sense of the events given his current knowledge. Then slowly, carefully, he says, “Maybe I wanted to keep you guessing.”

Taken aback for a moment, he chuckles. “I suppose I deserve that.” More than anything, he's just pleased Scott’s _alive_ and talking to him.

Scott doesn’t answer, eyes still studying him, searching for...something.

Resolved, because Scott is _alive_ and heaven knows what he would’ve done if Scott had stayed _dead_ , he holds out a hand and says gently, “Come. We should talk.”

“Didn't you say...?”

He shakes his head ruefully. “No. Not about this. Not anymore.”

When Scott doesn’t take his hand immediately, he can’t say he’s surprised, but he does feel something akin to heartbreak. Maybe he should’ve brought the berries with him as a parting gift. He's about to lower his arm when a hand reaches out and takes his.

Reyes looks up in surprise. “Scott?”

Hesitantly, Scott gives his hand a squeeze and says quietly, “You’re right. Let’s talk.”

**Author's Note:**

> Reyes' POV turned out a lot more introspective than I originally anticipated but that's because he's more careful with his words and doesn't have an entire crew there to give him a tease him about it.


End file.
